


i need new heroes

by oceansinmychest



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: Apocalypse, F/M, For a Friend, One Shot, Random & Short, Short One Shot, Survivors, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 01:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceansinmychest/pseuds/oceansinmychest
Summary: Shane Walsh has learned that a woman like her don’t know the meaning of the word forgiveness.





	i need new heroes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SouthernRust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernRust/gifts).



> Title was inspired due to the song “If Wishes Were Catholics” By: Saltillo. 
> 
> None too long ago, my friend (SouthernRust) asked me to write a fic with Lilly (The Walking Dead Game) and Shane Walsh. So, this was the product. Don't ask me what timelines are lol. Hope you like it! :3

The first time Lilly Caul comes into his life, she saves him from a group of renegade bandits, shotgun in tow. She had enough bullets for each skull (minus his) with one to spare. Shane Walsh has learned that a woman like her don’t know the meaning of the word _forgiveness_.

Flat on his ass, he’s quick to stand up. She points the gun at him.

“You’ve done this before,” Shane says.

She wants to lie, he knows otherwise because of the steel glint in her eyes.

“Yes.”

Lilly hears him.

When she first sees him, she thinks about punching him square in the jaw. Reckless behavior in the apocalypse is strongly discouraged. 

Miss Automaton offers him a hand _after_ lowering her saving grace. When vagabond souls meet, good intentions are led astray. From here on out, they travel together. People like them are gone, but never forgotten.

* * *

 

A fire crackles, waning as the night throws howling wind in retaliation. With a groan, he shields his face from the dull ember glow. He leans against a rock for support, his body fatigued from starvation and the fever that eats away at him.

Christ.

 Into the pines walks another broken woman. They waged their holy wars. Look where it got them. Her hair remains down, an untamed mane. He mistakes her for Rick’s wife in a heartbeat.

Lori loved a saint. A good guy tryin’ to be bad though he remained good at heart. What a conundrum. From the memory, his head spins. All he wanted – **wants** – was to keep Lori, their kid, and Carl safe.

“Shit. Lori?”

“No,” she fires back, deadpanned.

Just another hothead sheriff made to suffer, his eyes are black coals. He squints at her. Allows for his vision to readjust. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn’t like to name.

“I brought you meds,” she mumbles while sifting through her rucksack. She pulls it out like cyanide and happiness. Aspirin’s his virtue. “Thought you said you didn’t feel pain,” she goes on to say.

Is the impervious Lilly Caul _humoring_ him? Bemused, he grunts. His hand forms a claw. **Gimme gimme** sings the unspoken demand. She tosses him the bottle, the autumn wind carving into her gaunt cheeks.

She’s pretty in a feral sort of way.

* * *

 

They’re holed up in a motel room, the dresser barricading the door. Every now and then, she glances at the blinds and the window. She doesn’t sleep anymore. He notices this their first night together. The distrust is evident in her caged tiger pace.

“It’s not safe here, Shane,” she keeps telling him. The gauze around her knuckles has been replaced by fingerless gloves to fight off the callouses. There’s a wild look in her eyes, anxiety making a mess of her gut.

The weather’s split her lip, chapped and dry. Her mouth isn’t soft like Lori’s.

“Where’d you learn to put up with assholes like me?”

To calm her, he changes the subject. Truth be told, he’s just as restless. His hands churn and stir in his lap. Those Levi’s are losing their bright, blue hue.

Defacto leaders butt heads; this is no new knowledge. Fearlessness has kept them alive.

“Air Force,” she answers bluntly, the ghost of pride tethered to her curved back. Her rigid shoulders slump down, the muscles loosening somewhat.

“You hate a lot of folks. All that hate seems to do no good.”

“Maybe,” Lilly responds after a pensive pause. She doesn’t tolerate his shit. “You harbor some yourself.”

So they have their demons. Who doesn’t in the apocalypse?

* * *

 

Shane knows what it’s like to be stabbed in the goddamned back.

“You too?” He asks and nearly has a hoot.

Lilly just stares, her jaw working real heard from the frustration of her situation. The skeleton of an RV has rendered her eerily quiet.

Too bad their heroes are fucked up, dead and gone.

He **wants** to know. His worn, angry hand swipes across his quick mouth. Shane rubs at the stubble collecting there.

She stares some more, her eyes focused on the walker corpse that he’s done in. A machete to the skull took care of that. Her mind, it seems, was on auto-pilot. Unusual for her, but she confesses the truth.

“I miss my dad, I miss… my group. That little girl.” Her voice starts to choke. Somehow, she swallows her pain. Lilly's good for that.

Yes, Lilly knows what it means to get fucked over, but she’s rebuilt herself --  bit by broken bit. She’s had her share of fault. Lord only knows.

Her sullen gaze flits to his palm. The lines like cracks and splinters in the road. He offers her a hand. This time, she takes it.

Fuck, her grip is _fierce_.


End file.
